


Three Nights with Lio Fotia and the Scar to Prove it

by 61feathers



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Burnish, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Guiera - Freeform, Holding galo hostage, Hurt/Comfort, Kray Forsight, M/M, Mad Burnish - Freeform, Meis - Freeform, Minor Gueira/Meis (Promare), My First Work in This Fandom, Sort Of, We're not so different, handjobs, liogalo, only a lot longer, pocky, promare - Freeform, that cave scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/61feathers/pseuds/61feathers
Summary: Galo didn't know what he was going to stumble into when he ran for his bike parked by the lake, he just knew that he had to follow the flame falling out of the sky. And maybe he expected it to be Burnish, but he didn't expect it to be the Mad Burnish Leader, Lio Fotia. Not again anyway-- he'd just gotten him locked up and had the badge of honor to prove it!As it turns out, that badge of honor means nothing, and Lio Fotia means... everything. Galo can't deny the evidence packed into the cave, and he can't deny wanting to help in any way he can. So while he sits there, hands bound for three days and three nights, waiting for someone to rescue him (or the escaped Burnish, or both), he might as well make the best of it. He might as well make Lio his friend.(Canon-compliant!!! This is essentially my "What would have happened if Galo went to the cave alone and the Burnish didn't leave right away" fic.)
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 18
Kudos: 256





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy!!! I don't write fanfiction very often, but this one was sitting in the back of my head long enough. I gotta get it out of my system. ;;w;; God Bless Galo Thymos and Lio Fotia.

The second time Galo laid eyes on Lio Fotia, it was _not_ through the spider-webbed windshield of his favorite mecha suit of armor. He was _not_ surrounded by flames, nor by the sound of metal screeching and buildings collapsing. There was no havoc, no chaos, and no voices crackling through his intercoms.

Instead, the city was far off, sleeping peacefully ignorant, and he was here, totally lost from it. The wobbly shape of Lio Fotia was standing before him in the pale-pink glow of a tame fire. Fuzzy shapes of black and silver until Galo’s eyes came to focus, and he remembered how he’d ended up _here_. In a cave nearby his secret lake.

He’d seen a flame from far off, ran for his bike to meet up with it, stopped at the mouth of a cave and then tiptoed inside. He remembered the heat that radiated from its center. The sharp intake of his breath as he took in the scene before him.

There were Burnish suffering. There was guilt. And then there was a sharp blow to the back of his neck and (unfortunately) not much else.

Lio was speaking to Galo now, telling him something important, but Galo kept getting distracted by the sounds of the other Burnish rustling around their makeshift camp; clinking of tin cans and water bubbling in an old pot. Muted chatter; unsure voices full of fear and anguish.

Lio spoke so confidently, it was impossible not to hear him too, but by the time Galo made sense of his words he was being called away. Ushered over to the skinny body of a dying Burnish woman.

Galo wanted to help. He’d offered to help. He’d practically _begged_; because in his mind, if he could just get the right materials from off his bike, he might be able to save her. He was telling the truth, but Lio didn’t believed him.

So, he watched her die instead. Hands still tied together around his back and feet scraping uselessly along the stone floor.

Her bruised, bandaged body and pale grey skin burnt away to ash right before Galo’s eyes. Right under Lio Fotia’s fingertips too. She’d wheezed and rasped and then she was _gone_. The people surrounding her—some he had to assume were family—watched in dismay and blatant horror. They were starving, but they set down their miniscule portions of food and hung their heads in sorrow. Tears fell. Grief was powerful and silent.

Galo’d thought he was prepared for anything. He’d once placed his hand on a book and swore under oath that he was ready to take on the world. He’d done the training, he’d passed the tests, he’d promised himself he was going to save people.

But he’d never seen someone die before. Certainly not a Burnish.

And the worst part? Even if he’d been allowed to help, there was nothing that could have been done. Lio had touched her softly, kissed her to try and ignite a flame deep within, and ultimately failed. Galo watched as his gloved fingertips trailed through her remains. His lips trembled, but he stayed there beside the pile of ash for a long moment. So long that Galo actually flinched when he finally moved again.

Lio choked as he rushed past him, heading for the mouth of the cave. On the outside, just within earshot, Galo heard him break down and sob.

A very short amount of time had gone by since he’d first met the leader of Mad Burnish, but he knew deep down that his first impression was wrong. Lio was not some _big bad boss_ of thirty years, confronting him amid chaos _he _caused. He was barely more than a kid, with the weight of an entire race resting on his shoulders. Lio Fotia was _not_ a villain. He was _not _evil. He was not _wrong _for standing up for his people.

What was it that he’d said a few moments ago? Governor Kray was the villain? Governor Kray was funding the prisons and experiments? Governor Kray didn’t give a damn about them…

Galo didn’t want to believe it, but he did.

How could he not?

The first several hours Galo spent slumped up against the cold, rocky wall of that cave was the longest length of time he’d gone without talking (perhaps in his entire life). He’d drowned out the sounds of Burnish crying in favor of his own unraveled thoughts. Focused on anything but the pile of ash that lay near the fire, several feet ahead of him. He hoped that his team would find him soon, but also hoped that these people would make it out before then; because while they were in no physical danger from the Burning Rescue Crew, they were in great danger of the law. If they were found, they would end up going back to wherever it was they came from—wherever Kray had them locked up and left them to die.

Galo wasn’t sure he could take seeing them suffer any more than they already had. He considered his position, his job, his morals and his burning soul; all things that made him the man he was meant to be, and then decided that just for tonight, he’d be nothing of the sort.

Tonight, Galo would listen to Lio Fotia’s heartbreak outside the cave, away from his kin. Nothing but a shadow laced with pain and dread. The sound of a crackling fire. The echo of his own heart.

***

Morning didn’t come easy. Probably because sleep didn’t take pity on him. Galo stayed up and up and up and never gave in to closing his eyes because when he did, all he could see was that woman fading into nothing before him. It reminded him of the day he’d collapsed against Kray’s shoulder as his childhood home burned down. The smell of smoke cutting through his stuffy nose and coating his throat. The knowledge—even as a child—that his parents were gone and that they weren’t coming back.

Kray saved _his_ life, so how could he be causing so many people misery? Galo wrestled with the story Lio had told him until his head hurt. Until his chest ached with remorse and he truly, honestly believed that he _was _an idiot. Not just because people always told him he was (be it a term of endearment or whatever) but because there was obviously something he was missing here. He needed to know more. He needed _proof_.

Galo looked up at the group of Burnish laying on the hard floor of the cave, silent and still as they slept through their pain, and hated that it was right in front of him.

Proof.

Their eyes were sunken in and rimmed with dark bruises. They were malnourished—barely more than skin and bones. They had patches of hair missing from their heads and bandages wrapped around their limbs…

It was true that Kray Foresight oversaw the prisons. He was their governor and funded all the government run organizations of Promepolis. He had the money, therefore the resources, to do with them whatever he pleased. Not to mention the endless support from his people. What went on behind the bars of prison was unknown to them; even to him. So how was he supposed to believe that _this_ wasn’t happening?

Galo didn’t want to believe that Kray Foresight would do this to these people, but they were here, right in front of his eyes.

Sometime before the sun broke over the mountain, the Burnish fire in the center of the cave flickered out, and a chill began to creep in. Air frozen from off the lake drifted through the pine trees and blew in through the tunnel. A slow, lonely and distant howl.

How long would it take for his team to realize where he’d gone? Aina had tried to follow him after he took off from the pizza place, but he’d lost her on the side streets in the city and hightailed it out of there. Did the equipment on his bike have tracking? He couldn’t remember, even though he thought he probably _should. _That would have been in the endless amount of paperwork he’d signed to be a part of Burning Rescue.

Not to mention, even if they did track his bike to the woods, that wouldn’t lead them to him here, in the cave. Unless his pants had a tracker… he was pretty sure they didn’t.

Maybe the medal Kray awarded him had a tracker…

Regardless, Galo sighed. There was no way to tell and no way to find out. If he couldn’t rely on his team to find him soon, then he would have to rely on getting out of here on his own. It was bad enough that he was going to be late to his shift today (although he assumed following the escaped Mad Burnish leader was excuse enough) but he was going to freeze to death if the sun didn’t rise soon. With the Burnish asleep and Lio gone, somewhere—probably guarding the entrance—there was no extra warmth for him. All he had was his heat-resistant pants and a black T-shirt.

The chill followed him through to the morning. He spent some time jerking his arms against the restraints and trying to stand up despite the awkward angle his feet were tied. After a considerable amount of effort, he thought he may be able to slip his arms underneath himself so at the very least he wouldn’t be tied behind the back, but the effort was cut short when a sudden whisper of low voices surrounded him.

There was a gentle flicker of light casting shadows on the walls, the pad of boots against stone, and then _Lio_, strolling back in like he owned the place. Chin held high and fire returned valiantly to his eyes. One of his right hands was at his side—the tall gangly one with long hair—speaking softly.

“Boss, you should rest too. I can take it from here.”

“I don’t understand what is taking so long… Gueira said he’d be back by dawn.”

“I’m sure he’s doing the best he can. If word got out about our escape, it’s going to take him a while to get far enough away from the city to rent a van. You know how people are… they go on lockdown and refuse us service.”

Lio stopped in the opening to the bowl center of the cave, a few feet from Galo. He looked over, confused for a split second until recognition painted his face in anger. Had he forgotten Galo was tied here?

“Hey.” Galo croaked. His voice was hoarse and weaker than he intended. “Why don’t you just let me out of here so I can—

“Hush.” Lio hissed, gesturing with his chin towards the group of sleeping Burnish. A few of them were starting to stir.

Galo glared. Without his hands or feet, his mouth was his only weapon and he shouldn’t feel guilty about using it. Half of him wanted to yell—the cave might create an echo that would carry his voice to someone on the outside—but he felt obligated to let these poor people sleep too. They didn’t even have blankets.

“Lio Fotia, you can’t keep me here!” Galo whispered harshly.

“You’ll be here until we leave safely.”

“No!”

Without another word, Lio turned his back to Galo and started murmuring to his general again. As he spoke, a flicker of fire danced at his fingertips, leaving just enough light for Galo to see his expression. It was pained, which was the only expression Galo had ever seen besides anger on his face. The other Burnish looked pained too, but before they separated, he wrapped a single arm around Lio and buried his face in his hair. It was swift, but it was gentle.

Was that the kind of relationship the Mad Burnish had with each other? Was Lio a compassionate boss? Was he as gentle on the inside as he was in the same way he’d touched the dying Burnish woman? Did he cry a lot or was last night a fluke? 

So many questions Galo had, and no way to ask them.

The taller man turned to make his way out of the cave and Lio stepped forward, straight past Galo to the remains of tinder in the center of the sleeping Burnish. The flicker of fire at his hands was tossed gently into the pile, catching and igniting brighter. A plume of warmth Galo was unashamedly thankful for. He heaved a sigh of relief, leaned back into the cave wall, sank into the stone and drew his legs up to his chest.

“How did you escape prison?” The words were out of Galo’s mouth before he could stop them.

Lio glanced over his slender shoulder; flickers of pink and orange dancing off shiny leather and pale skin. His eyes narrowed slightly; nostrils flared out on the exhale. He scanned the group of Burnish one last time and then turned to approach Galo head on.

Of course, it didn’t feel very head on, considering Galo was slumped into a wall, shivering so hard his teeth rattled.

Lio bent to his level, elbows on his knees and voice low. “You realize I _let_ myself be captured, right?”

_What?_

“WHAT!?”

“Shhh! Shut up!” Lio insisted, tossing a warning spark straight into his face. It fizzled out before it hit his nose.

“That’s not possible!” Galo insisted. “I caught you fair and square!”

“Hardly the truth.” Lio snorted, reaching out with his—oh God his hand was so small—to grip the cold medal still pinned to Galo’s shirt from yesterday. He tugged on it gently, turning it this way and that. “You were rewarded for nothing.”

“I was rewarded for the capture of the Mad Burni—aah—HEY!”

Galo broke off in a sharp yelp as Lio’s fingers burst into a hot flame at his chest. The medal he was holding squealed in protest, glowing red hot and fucking _branding _Galo right over his heart, before it turned to thick, molten goo in Lio’s hand. He held it for a second, flames still blazing, and then hurled it across the cave towards an empty stone wall.

“Fuck! F-Fuck!” Galo whined, jerking hard against his restraints. This wasn’t the first time he’d been burned—not even close—but it was perhaps the most precarious. Usually flames would lick at him through the fire-retardant material of his uniform, or from the cracks of his mecha. Never molten and concentrated like this.

Lio placed his opposite hand straight into the burn, palm down, and somehow that smothered the ache slightly. He leaned in close to Galo, nose scrunched up and lip curled.

“I let you capture me.” He whispered again. “You’re an idiot if you think otherwise.”

For the second time since being locked up in here, Galo had nothing to say.

The leader of Mad Burnish removed his hand from Galo’s chest then, turned away without another word, and greeted the curious eyes of his people who had blinked awake at the commotion. Galo’s heart thumped rapid in his chest, getting caught in his throat. A sweat broke out around his ears and when he looked down, he could just make out the shape of a scar through the new hole in his shirt.

There was no fleshy, raw wound. No. Just a scar. Healed, but raised stark white against the rest of his skin. It still hurt as if it had just happened, but Galo was fully aware of the fact that Lio had _healed _him.

Well, burned him _and_ healed him.

The scar was in the vague shape of a heart, and suddenly Galo wasn’t very cold.

***

Being tied up for any length of time was exhausting, but it was especially exhausting once human bodily functions were involved. Galo assumed he’d been sitting there for about sixteen hours—judging by the light of day pouring through the far-off opening of the cave. His muscles were stiff. His shoulders especially hurt like hell. But none of that mattered right now because more than anything, he had to pee.

Sixteen hours and his teeth were practically floating. He’d tried _everything_ possible to get his arms around to the front of him, so at the very least, he could shuffle his pants down and piss into the cracks of the rocks next to him. But it failed. He was not flexible, nor coordinated enough to manage it. Unless he wanted to dislocate his arm in the process, it wasn’t happening.

Which left him with little option.

Lio busied himself with cooking meager portions of food and distributing them among the Burnish. Practically ignoring Galo’s existence save for the occasional glance in his direction. In the daylight he looked smaller, less intimidating, and more human than Galo remembered. When he sat with the others, he held their hands between his own, giving them what little hope he could spare.

Galo noted, that they didn’t heal from Lio’s touch like he did. Which was just as confusing as it was unsettling. If he could give his strength in the form of fire to others, then why wasn’t he healing them? They had wounds; couldn’t he burn them away too?

The more time Galo spent watching them, the more he believed everything Lio said about Kray Foresight.

And the more he had to pee. It was really, r_eally _urgent now.

“Lio.” Galo cleared his throat. When the leader did not look up at him, he spoke again, louder. “L-Lio!”

Pink eyes. Not as hostile as they were, but guarded and unhappy. He murmured something to the young woman he’d been sitting with, then got up and marched over.

“Don’t waste my time…” He warned.

Galo squashed his thighs together a little tighter, stomach aching. If he had any pride left at this point, it was gone with the whine that dared to escape his chest.

“I gotta pee.”

Lio blinked, unamused.

“Lio Fotia, I am not fucking kidding I—

“How many Burnish do you think have pissed themselves while locked up because of people like you?” He raised a single boot and pressed it gently into the side of Galo’s knee, trying to pry it away from the other one. “Do you think we haven’t been humiliated like that?”

“I’m not _those people, _Lio! I had no idea what was happening to them once they were taken to prison. I—I would have tried to stop it if I’d have known…”

“You didn’t care enough to know.” Lio said, simply, then kicked Galo in the leg. “Turn over.”

It took everything he had to do that without wetting himself, but when he did, Lio reached down to untie his feet and the ability to stand (finally) put the pressure on his bladder to the back of his mind. He was weak and wobbly, but managed to get to his feet on his own despite grunting and cussing. Lio placed that tiny, gloved hand in the center of his back and twisted the material of his shirt tightly; used it like a leash to usher him towards the cave entrance.

The sunlight outside was so blinding and harsh his eyes throbbed. By the time Lio lead him down a few large, jagged rocks and into a patch of grass, he could barely squint to take in the surroundings.

“Make it quick.” Lio insisted, giving him a shove into the nearest tree. Galo narrowly avoided falling into his face, but the blow to his shoulder was just a frustrating.

He leaned into the bark, voice tight. “MY hands?!”

And then Lio was at his waist. Working swiftly with the buckles and belts and yanking his pants down to the middle of his thighs. Galo tried to protest, but it was impossible without literally making a mess of himself. Embarrassment burned hot like the sun on his head, and all he could do to stifle it was lean into the tree and hope Lio would go away.

Spoiler alert; Lio did not go away. But at least he turned his back while Galo spread his legs and sighed; trying to avoid getting his own feet wet. Nothing in his life had ever been so awkward. How was he supposed to tell his team that he’d been held captive by the leader of Mad Burnish himself, and wasn’t even allowed to pee on his own? How was he supposed to tell them that after he was finished, Lio took it upon himself to grab his flaccid dick and shove it back into place before pulling up his pants and zipping them for him?

“You should wear underwear.” Was Lio’s only comment, and Galo wanted to scream.

So, he did.

Because he was _outside_ at this point, and there was no need to hold back due to sleeping Burnish refugees. He was tired. He was grumpy. He was ashamed.

“LIO!” Galo tried, voice raspy and dry. “I- I understand why you’re upset with me, okay!? I would be upset too if I were you! And I’m sorry! I—I wanna help!”

“You can help by not drawing attention to us.” Lio fisted the back of his shirt again and started pushing him towards the cave.

Galo dug his heels in stubbornly.

“Let me go! I’m gonna get to the bottom of this! If Kray Foresight is really behind torturing you and your people then I’m gonna stop him, okay?”

“Move, Galo!”

“I just wanna he-A-AHHCK!”

Lio stuck one of his slender legs out and tripped Galo mercilessly. Twisted him around face first into the dirt and clambered onto his back like a big, leather spider. A boot came down hard between the dimples of his lower back. A knee beside his spine. Hands on his shoulders. A mouth hot in his ear.

“If you want to help my people, you will give me a chance to get them the hell out of here, do you understand?” Lio snarled. “I don’t care what you do after we leave here, but right now I can’t have you running your big mouth all over Promepolis!”

Galo stilled, exhausted and overwhelmed and _furious _that Lio was right. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of things, there were peoples lives at stake. Every one of those Burnish still in the cave were wanted criminals, and while Galo didn’t understand their _need to burn, _or whatever it was, he couldn’t deny all the truth he’d seen. They weren’t lighting things on fire for fun or because they were evil creatures—they were doing it with a heavy conscious and some kind of primal-prerequisite nipping at their heels.

Still…

“My team is gonna come looking for me anyway.” Galo wheezed. “They’ll be able to find my bike.”

“We melted your bike.” Lio told him.

_Of course they did_.

So, escaping was out of the question. Being found was out of the question. Negotiating for his freedom was out of the question. What else was there?

_Compliance_.

“Alright.” Galo grunted as the weight shifted off him. He made little attempt to move, despite the awkward position. The grass was softer than the stone walls of the cave, and the sun was warm—he could almost feel his body trying to shut down on him; begging him to close his eyes and sleep. Lio didn’t get off him until he spoke again.

“I’ll stay here until your people are safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it folks, Lio Fotia being bitter and emotional... Galo being smarter than we give him credit for. <3 I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! There's more to come!!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lio softens up a little.... and by a little I mean a lot.

There was a single child mixed in with the rest of the Burnish. He had dirt all over his hands, face and hair too long to be comfortable without a brush to manage it. He couldn’t be more than six or seven years old. He was the first one to willingly approach Galo.

“Was’at?” He stopped a few feet away, pointing towards Galo’s left arm.

For the record, Galo was going on two days of no sleep and no food, so his brain was probably extra fried at this point. He looked down at the kid and forced the best smile he could manage, but what came out of his mouth was stupid. Even to his own ears.

“Arm.” He blinked. “That’s my arm.”

“No.” The kid shook his head, coming a little closer. He pointed with one tiny finger, jabbing weakly at Galo’s shoulder. He poked at the off-white material of his sleeve—the one that covered his scars. “Was’at?”

_Oh. _Galo should have realized it sooner. He took a good hard look at the kid and found he was standing a little awkwardly, one hand hanging limp at his side and the other doing all the work with the pointing. Galo squinted in the low light. He _also_ had scars. In fact, his little left hand was practically mangled.

Galo put on a brave face, shifting up against the rocks and leaning forward a little. His shoulders hurt worse than probably ever before—courtesy of being tied behind his back for so long—but he ignored the ache in favor of smiling.

“It’s a sleeve to cover my bu—scars.” He cleared his throat. “I have lots of scars on my arms, and they’re kind of sensitive so I cover them.”

The kid’s face scrunched up a little, like he was trying to understand just what Galo was talking about. He shifted on his feet, glanced over his shoulder back towards the group of Burnish (most of which ignored him, besides Meis who’s eyes pierced Galo like a dart to the forehead).

“Do they do that…to you?” The kid wondered out loud. “The bad mans?”

Galo flinched at the words. _Bad mans. _Something told him this kid wasn’t referring to Burnish, someone who, up until a day ago, Galo would have categorized as “bad” without meaning to. Now he knew better. He knew that the Burnish were just trying to live regular lives despite their powers. The scars and faded hope in their eyes were not a product of their own destruction.

“The bad mans did this to me.” The kid picked up his mangled hand and turned it around for a second, as if it was still new to him.

_Who would hurt a little kid? _Galo felt his throat tighten, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to speak, so he just kept smiling.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to keep it up very long, because out of nowhere a shadow moved from the wall across from him, and Lio emerged. The sound of boots scuffing the cave floor, a familiar noise among the low chatter and crackling fire. He didn’t stop until he was right at their side, squatting to be eye level with the child. He took his hand—the mangled one.

“They’re never going to hurt you again.” Lio told him, so quietly Galo wasn’t sure it was real. “Now, why don’t you go pick something to eat out of that bag over there? See, Meis has treats.”

Meis sat, still with those dark, piercing eyes, and beckoned the child. He had a paper grocery bag at his side, and in his hands a packet of vanilla wafers.

The kid scuttled off without another word, and Galo sighed. He didn’t want to admit he felt defeated (his burning fire-fighter soul could never be put out!) but he hadn’t felt this miserable in a while. Not since he celebrated his birthday alone at fourteen, and none of his foster family remembered. This was probably still worse.

Lio stayed squatted at his side, legs spread and elbows on his knees, looking pointedly at him. Long lashes casting shadows down the soft curves of his cheeks.

“I’m usually really good with kids.” Galo felt the need to explain. “But I guess I’ve never met a Burnish child befo—

“They’re just like other children.” Lio told him. His words weren’t harsh, but they were curt. Unshakable. Lio probably didn’t want to talk about it.

“Y-Yeah.” Galo tried to shrug, but the soreness around his neck made him flinch instead.

Lio must have noticed.

“Lean forward.” He moved, planting one knee down and reaching around behind Galo’s side, almost pinning him to the cave wall. Galo did as told, although it meant he had to lean into Lio’s slender shoulder… which was weird. He caught a whiff of his hair as it brushed his chin, and before he could figure out what that smell was—lemongrass? Pine? Roses? It was hard to tell beyond the campfire—the pressure holding his hands together vanished.

The noise that escaped Galo’s mouth was one-part whimper and one-part moan. He had to stifle the whine, arms trembling as he fought to pull them forward again. They were so stiff it was almost impossible; so weak he probably wouldn’t be able to lift a pound, let alone the usual two hundred and something he could bench-press.

“You’re not going to try and run.” It wasn’t a question. Lio shifted down and plopped himself beside Galo, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his head there. “You’d be stupid to run.”

“I told you I wouldn’t leave until your people were safe.” Galo reminded him. “I don’t break promises.”

“Good.” Lio met his eyes again, heavy lidded. When was the last time he’d slept? Now that Galo could really look at him, it was obvious he was exhausted. There were deep, dark circles under his glassy eyes. His face was pale, his lips slightly chapped. Galo had been keeping tabs on Lio since he’d gotten here, but he hadn’t seen him relax even once. If he wasn’t talking to the other Burnish, he was outside guarding the entrance or distributing rations of food. Occasionally he would return with the same refilled gallon of water, pour it into a pot to boil, and then sip at it with Meis. Maybe it was tea? Galo wasn’t sure.

He _was _sure that it wasn’t enough though.

“How come you’re not eating anything?” He murmured, rolling his shoulders forward and back again. At the very thought of food, his stomach gave a weak snarl.

Lio huffed. “The others are more important.”

“You’re their leader, if you’re gonna lead them, shouldn’t you be at your best?”

This time he rolled his eyes. “You sound just like Meis and Gueira.” As if that was a dismissal.

Galo arched his back and raised his arms straight up from the sides, forcing them to give where they wouldn’t. He groaned, locking fingers above his head and straining against the ache. His whole body shook with effort.

“Would you stop that? You’re making everyone stare.” Lio scolded. “It’s not going to feel better right away.”

Galo deflated, knowing Lio was right. He’d have to deal with it for a few days, probably. Tearing up his muscles after they’d been locked in the same place for so long was a bad idea.

“I hate sitting still for so long.” Galo grumbled.

Lio’s gaze stretched across the cave, slowly scanning back and forth. He seemed to read Meis’ eyes again. A nod of something silent and understanding passed between them. Then he stood.

Galo didn’t think much of it. Lio hadn’t stayed by his side more than a few minutes at a time since he’d gotten here. He sighed, ready to roll over and attempt to sleep through his hunger and discomfort.

Then Lio spoke.

“Should we go for a walk?” He asked, although there was a certain w_ay _about his voice that told Galo he didn’t have much of a choice. He was so confident and steady. His fuscia eyes burned like the exotic flames he wielded.

Galo couldn’t say no to that offer, even if he’d wanted to. Getting the chance to see the sky and move around? _Yes. Yes please._

The ties that had bound his feet when he’d first gotten here were removed much earlier in the day (the second time Lio a_llowed _him not to piss himself and escorted him to the tree). He was able to stand freely on his own. His steps were still a little wobbly, but Lio moved slow enough that he could keep up, lighting the pathway outside with a larger flame so he wouldn’t trip.

The fresh air was cold—much colder than inside the cave—but it was unforgivably welcome. Galo filled his lungs with it once, twice, three times before his chest broke off in a sudden bought of coughing. Loud, rasping, and unpleasant.

That’s right—his arms and shoulders hurt so much he didn’t notice how the soreness in his throat had gravitated down. His lungs were tight from the smoke the Burnish created within the cave.

He coughed (and coughed and coughed and coughed) until he literally couldn’t stop it anymore—the cold air was drawing it from him. Galo leaned against a boulder just beyond the entrance and held a hand to his chest, overwhelmed. Was he wheezing? He couldn’t tell, but he’d kill for one of those oxygen masks back at the station. Did he have one on his bike?

_We melted your bike._

Right. Never mind that. Galo looked up, shivering, expecting to see Lio staring at him, but found nothing.

He was gone.

Something fierce—like freedom—struck Galo in the chest almost as hard as the coughing fit did. He shifted his weight onto his feet again and spun around, facing the cave entrance and then back towards the lake in the distance.

Was this Lio’s way of letting him go? Galo considered it with his feet frozen in place. It couldn’t be, because Lio had _just _told him that he would be stupid to run. He’d just untied his hands; that was it.

And Galo had promised…

He looked at the lake between the trees, still wheezing, and longed for his team to come find him. He’d come out here so many times on his own, but he’d never bothered to bring anyone. In fact, when he’d darted out of Promepolis the other day he’d been bound and determined to lose Aina in the city so she _couldn’t_ follow him. He’d succeeded, but _wow, _what an unfortunate victory that was.

Were they looking for him at all? Galo worried—the fear of rejection buried deep in his subconscious via shitty childhood—that they wouldn’t care enough to. They’d probably think he was taking a personal day… or two.

“Galo.”

He swallowed, feeling numb and cold; turned to see Lio who was coming back out of the cave with two chipped and faded mugs. Their eyes met, and somehow Galo knew that this was not his enemy anymore. This was just Lio, who was solemn but obviously empathetic. Obviously not evil or _bad. _He held the mug out to Galo.

Galo tried to raise his arms to take it, but they got stuck somewhere around elbow height, and he backed off before it wound up any more embarrassing. He didn’t want to accidentally drop it—they probably didn’t have enough for everyone as it is.

“Drink this, now.” Lio commanded, brows furrowed.

“I—” Galo broke off in another fit of coughing. “I don’t think I can lift it.”

And if that wasn’t the sound of his pride splattering all over the floor, he didn’t know what was. Galo squeezed his eyes shut, arms limp at his sides, unsure of what to do. He was being offered a hot drink and he w_anted it_, but he wasn’t about to lap it up like a dog.

Lio nudged him with an elbow over to a patch of thicker grass. “Alright, sit down.”

Galo didn’t exactly want to sit anymore, but he sank to the ground as told.

“I’ll hold it for you.” Lio told him. “It’ll help your throat, then you won’t be coughing all night, keeping everyone up.”

What more was there to say? Galo couldn’t object; he was pretty sure Lio wouldn’t give him a chance to even try. He cleared his throat as best he could and let the warm ceramic rim touch his lips. Lio tipped it back, ever so slightly, and Galo sipped what he could. He half expected it to burn him, but instead it was just above tepid.

A few more sips and Galo leaned back into boulder with a sigh. He didn’t know what was in it—if it was tea, it was disturbingly stale—but it helped, just like Lio said. The warmth soothed his throat and smothered the urge to cough.

He smiled weakly. “Thanks…”

Lio was quiet, his own discarded mug at his side and Galo’s held within the palm of his small hand. He fussed with his jacket pocket for a moment, fishing for something. Then held out a protein bar and a packet of… strawberry Pocky?

“Here.”

Galo didn’t move, but Lio seemed quite content to set them on his knee.

“I don’t want those.”

“Don’t be ungrateful.” He almost scowled—it was more of a pout than anything (and may or may not be the cause of Galo’s heart thumping in his chest, but who cares).

“No. No… It’s just…” Galo cleared his throat, partially to ward off another cough and partially because he wasn’t sure what was happening here. Lio Fotia, leader of Mad Burnish, prison escapee and reason that Galo was rewarded a medal of honor, was being nice to him? Nice enough to trust him not to run away and nice enough to hold the mug to his lips so he could drink. It was so…

“I just don’t want to take from your people.” Galo recovered his train of thought before it was doomed to disaster. He shook his head. “If you’re not eating, then I’m definitely not eating!”

Lio’s eyes narrowed. “These were in the compartment on your bike, idiot. They’re yours.”

_Oh. _“O-oh.”

_When had he put them in there?_

Still, Galo felt it absurd to stuff his face when Lio wasn’t. He had a fleeting thought about Margarita pizza and the savory taste and spicy sauce and fresh basil and—

Then he remembered the Burnish that was taken away because of it. The whole reason Galo was so pissed off he stormed out of the city and wound up _here. _

“You should eat them.” Galo whispered, at last. He wasn’t sure he could stomach the guilt anyway.

Lio pushed the mug to Galo’s lips again. He took a longer, bigger gulp; felt it curl down into his throat and all the way to the empty pit of his stomach. Shivers crawled back up his spine in response.

“How about we split them?”

Galo was so lost in the comfort of warm water he barely registered Lio’s words. He hummed, eyes closed and nodded. When he opened them again, Lio was setting down his mug and pulling off the little leather half-gloves that encompassed his hands. He dropped them in the grass beside them. Snagged the Pocky and tore open the top.

Given the situation, the state of his shoulders and his lack of sleep, Galo found himself smiling dumbly all the same. He chuckled, like this was some kind of trick—like his team was going to jump out of the bushes and yell that he was being pranked on some awful T.V. show. Like maybe the Lio in front of him and all those Burnish in the cave were just _really _good actors, and he was too stupid to know any better.

“What’s so funny?” Lio slid one of the long cookies out and held it in front of his face, inspecting it.

“I’m eating Pocky with the leader of Mad Burnish.” Galo would have laughed harder, if it didn’t make him ache. “Or I’m dreaming.”

Lio nibbled at the frosted end, cracking off a piece and chewing methodically. His nose scrunched up, twisting the features around his face until he swallowed. “You have poor taste in snacks.” He shoved the rest of it in his mouth and crunched it up swiftly. Then reached in, grabbed another stick and did the same.

“They’re delicious.” Galo argued lightly. “And it’s a fun game to play with people you like.”

The third stick that came out stopped just short of Lio’s mouth. His eyes widened slightly, confused.

“Game? It’s food.”

“It’s a game.” Galo rolled his eyes. Did Lio really live this far under a rock? Sure, he was the big bad boss now, but he’d had a normal life at some point, hadn’t he? Galo had played the Pocky game with numerous people before.

“You’re supposed to put one end of it in your mouth, and someone else puts the other end in theirs. Then you see who holds on the longest.”

Lio stared at the stick like it had betrayed him. “That’s stupid. You just sit there with this in both your mouths?”

“No, you… you eat it.” Galo wanted to slap a palm to his forehead and shake his head, but the motion caused him to jerk and hiss in pain. He grunted, rolling his shoulders back a little, testing them. “It’s supposed to make you kiss.”

Lio, still holding the thing, shifted up from his sitting position to his knees, angling towards Galo and holding it out to him.

“You should just eat it.” He commented, although—was that a little redness around his cheeks?

It was easier to pretend that he wasn’t being _hand-fed _when Lio was blushing, so Galo parted his lips and took only the end of it between his teeth. His stomach snarled again, in wanting, and he probably should just eat the damn thing, but this was kind of fun. He had been tied up in a cave for two days which was not fun. And maybe it was okay like this—maybe Lio wasn’t going to hate his guts so much now, because Galo understood that there was more than meets the eye with the Burnish.

They weren’t _bad. _He still didn’t understand why they burnt down buildings and put peoples lives in danger, but he did recognize that there was something else tempting them to do it. Hypnosis or mind control or…

Or maybe it was all a misunderstanding that had blown out of proportion.

“Nuh,hold’da end” he mumbled as Lio left him with the cookie hanging out of his mouth. Galo gestured with his chin, leaning over. “Youcan do’it.”

“I don’t play with my food.” Lio grumped. “Eat it or I will take the rest for myself.”

Galo frowned, but obeyed, pulling it in bit by bit and chomping it up until it was gone. He swallowed a heavy sigh, sagging back into the boulder and looking up at the night sky. Pocky shouldn’t taste so good, really. It shouldn’t taste like his last meal either. Something sad wormed it’s way into Galo’s heart as he heard Lio rustling through the packaging for another.

“We come from such different worlds.”

Lio stopped, skinny shoulders curling forward just a little.

“Galo… we’re two sides of the same coin.” It was his turn to sigh. “You want to protect and save people… I want the same.”

_Then why risk other’s lives with fire? _Galo wanted to ask, but he was afraid of the truth. He remembered what Lio said about them needing to burn, but he didn’t think he would fully understand anything more. What was the point in it? As soon as he could leave here knowing the Burnish were safe, he was going to march into Kray’s tower and demand an explanation.

“We’re not so different.” Lio concluded.

Galo wasn’t usually one for silence, but in the moment it felt right. Something about Lio’s eyes holding steady towards him, waiting for his in return. It made Galo warm. The wind blew a hollow and mournful sound through the trees. The ebb of sore muscles. Exhaustion and willingness to stay awake, if only for a little longer. If only to hold each other’s gaze until they met on even ground.

Lio lifted his bare hand and poked another cookie into Galo’s mouth. He took two bites out of it before stopping, thinking and failing, and thinking and failing until he decided that Lio was right. They weren’t so different.

He held half the Pocky between his front teeth and leaned toward Lio again, a timid huff of laughter puffing out from his nose. It was almost sad.

“C’mon.”

Lio pressed his hand to the front of Galo’s shoulder—just below the heart shaped scar he’d branded there the other night—and made like he was going to push Galo away.

Only he didn’t.

He stalled, mouth going slack and tongue slipping over his pretty, chapped lips. The heat of his palm grew steadily warmer, almost too hot, coaxing Galo forward just a little more. Lio took the other end between his teeth, less than a breath away, and snapped the cookie. Chewed it thoughtfully, swallowed, then went in for more.

Galo dropped the last inch into his lap on accident, but remained dutifully there, perfectly still. Their noses brushed.

And Lio kissed him.

Not because it was a game or because Galo was relentless when he wanted something; but because they were there. Together. Just the two of them and the moon and, if only for a moment, they were the same. Not enemies. Maybe not friends either—not yet—but the same. Two people who wanted to help others in a time of need.

Lio’s mouth was as hot as his hand, but not as fleeting. They moved together in slow, careful harmony; breath puffing out white into the cold air. Galo trembled, feeling lightheaded. His shoulders protested as he raised his hands to touch the sides of Lio’s face. To hold him there a little longer. To memorize the smell and the feeling and the taste of artificial strawberry on his tongue.

Lio skimmed his bare hands up Galo’s neck, stopping just short of running them through his hair. He pulled back slowly, just far enough that Galo could see his eyes slip open. They looked pained.

“You’re an idiot.” He whispered. Galo didn’t know why.

And then, as if he was saying goodbye, he set the Pocky box back in Galo’s lap with the protein bar, shifted both mugs closer to him, grabbed his leather gloves and stood.

“Lio—"

“Come back inside soon.” Was all he said, then vanished up into the mouth of the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not saying that Lio lied and told Galo the pocky and protein bar was found in his bike (so he would eat it) but i'm also... not... NOT saying that. c:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Lio's POV just to bring everything together before the last chapter! I know this one was a little shorter than the others, but I have big plans for the finale~

Galo Thymos was an idiot. He was loud. He was flashy. He was ignorant and stubborn and liked to put himself in harms way as if nothing could ever hurt him. As if he wasn’t just another human whose bones would break quickly and mend slowly. Who would bruise and bleed and come crashing back to earth with the same force of cruel gravity when flung through the air.

His team sure liked the fling him through the air.

Galo was an idiot. Lio knew the moment he’d met him. The moment Galo crashed into the ground before him and started spewing nonsense about ancient firefighters and the _Matoi. _Lio hadn’t known what a matoi was, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew he’d never forget now; because Galo was an idiot. A memorable idiot.

He was also the prettiest blue flame Lio had ever seen; burning hot and relentless like the sun. He made no sense, and somehow all the sense in the world.

Lio had caught himself smiling behind his mask in that moment—the moment they’d met—and then it had made him so mad he rammed the front of his bike straight into Galo’s stupid, handsome face.

Lio never expected the battle to be fun. In fact, he’d expected it to be quick and seamless. The plan was to taunt the Burning Rescue team, get them riled up, send his boys out first to set the stage, then let himself be captured.

He’d never expected the moment of doubt when Galo shattered half his mask. He’d never expected the rapid beat of his heart when Galo _grinned _at him from danger the end of his sword. He’d never expected the musky scent coming off Galo’s skin from a close distance (sweat and smoke and something else, maybe. Cheap cologne at best, Dawn dish soap at worst). It knocked his heart down into the pit of his stomach for a split second; until Freeze Force showed up to finish the job Burning Rescue started.

Lio had thought about Galo a lot in the short amount of time he spent in prison. Not because he wanted to—no—but because he couldn’t help it. Lio craved the ending of that battle. He craved letting loose on Galo Thymos one on one. Spilling him on the floor. Getting him on his knees. He craved the sweat and the intensity of his eyes. The rips in what little amount of clothing he wore and that stupid device—the matoi. The first ridiculous thing that had come out of his big mouth.

If the situation here in the cave were any less fragile, Lio would have handled Galo differently upon his arrival. He’d have thrashed him a little before tying him up. He’d have left more than just the mark on his chest (although it _was_ rather satisfying now that he’d seen it up close). He’d have been more careful. More indignant. He’d have let Galo piss himself and he’d certainly not have fed him under the stars.

However, the truth of the matter was… Lio was angry about _so much_ in his life, he didn’t have it in him to be angry about Galo too. He certainly wanted too, but Galo was an idiot and he’d never done a damn thing wrong. He was a rookie member of his team, full of great ideals and hope. He seemed ignorant in the fact that he went bounding off into danger by himself, but in reality, he was willing to listen and learn. He was willing to accept and move forward. He was _real. _

Perhaps the most real person Lio had ever met.

And while Lio found the… fascination with Galo Thymos to be juvenile at best, he couldn’t stop the feelings that poured in after it. Galo wanted to appease Kray and that was a _problem_. But he also wanted to do the right thing. Lio trusted his intuition that said Galo _would _do the right thing, if given the opportunity.

He may be an idiot. But Lio saw Galo on his side.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he allowed Galo to coax him into playing a stupid game with a dry cookie. Lio didn’t get it—there was no winner and there was no loser—only kissing. How was that a game? It didn’t _matter_, but it bugged him all the same. Lio couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed someone with purpose; leaned into a pair of chapped lips and sucked them wet. The last time he’d stroked someone’s jaw with his hand. The last time he’d felt a fire totally separate from his Burnish nature…

Lio couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted _more, more, more. _It scared him to hell and back again.

Yet even so, Lio invited Galo to lay beside him just within the entrance of the cave, away from the Burnish smoke that was making his throat sore. Galo wanted to chat, but Lio wasn’t having it. He silenced him with the stroke of his gloved hand across his insane hair—somehow still soft despite the hours gone unwashed. Galo protested, confused and grumpy, but rolled over to sleep anyway. He mumbled and drooled and whined like a puppy, straight into Lio’s lap. Used his thigh as a pillow because Lio didn’t bother to push him away. He was tired too, after all. His reflexes were wearing thin. Watching Galo sleep made him want to tip his head back and sleep too.

So, he whispered Meis’ name loud enough towards the heart of the cave until the tall, lanky shape of his comrade appeared with a familiar flame in his hand. His face was confused—maybe a little put off too—at the sight of Lio’s hand threading through in Galo’s hair. But he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, Lio asked_ him_ to keep watch tonight, and Meis was more than happy to oblige (he’d been begging Lio to sleep since they’d arrived here).

With Galo’s head in his lap, he slept. For the first time in a long time, the world seized to a halt around him. Time frozen in dreams of Lio’s past—of his life before he was Burnish. He dreamed of walking through a church while holding his mother’s hand; bells ringing out loud and pure. He dreamed of the private school he attended and the tutor that taught him to speak French even though he had no such interests. He dreamed of a time when hearing about the Burnish on the news was as close to them as he came. When he was sad and _angry,_ but ultimately, inept to helping their cause.

Believe it or not, Lio didn’t love those days—not like he loved his connection with the fire deep inside of him now. And maybe it was crazy, considering the hell he’d been put through over it, but Lio would take pain a hundred times over being helpless. His life before was quiet, muted, and mundane. His life now had purpose. It was hard. It was agonizing at times. But it was _real._

Like Galo.

Like the way his chest rose and fell and how, in Lio’s sleep, he seemed to be drawn to its heartbeat. He shifted down at some point, dislodging Galo from his lap in a bleary attempt to get more comfortable. The weight of limbs on limbs and weak protests followed by another gruff snore. Galo insisted on Lio’s bicep as a pillow this time, so Lio draped the other one over his shoulder and pressed his forehead into the fuzzy, shaved patch of blue hair at the nape of his neck. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than a million other things he’d slept on in the last few years. Galo smelt like he needed a shower, but he also smelt like he did that day they met, and Lio had to refrain from biting him just because.

Sleeping with _the enemy, _wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but Lio didn’t think it could hurt anything at this point either.

When he woke up some few hours later, it was because the group of Burnish a little farther into the cave were starting to stir, and they were clinking pots together while Meis spoke quietly. Typically, Lio was a light sleeper, but maybe exhaustion had gotten the better of him this time. He squinted into the sunlight between the boulders, sat up with an orchestra of joints popping, and cleared his throat in attempt to find his voice.

“G-Galo?”

That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it was to be expected. He supposed, falling asleep next to that idiot must have rubbed idiot off on him.

Speaking of it though, Galo was nowhere to be seen. His broad body left an imprint in the dirt on the ground, but that was it. A ghost of what was last night. Lio knew he wasn’t _gone _(Meis would have stopped him) but that didn’t ease the trace of panic that vibrated in his bloodstream. He jolted up, almost too fast, and stumbled into the nearest wall. A whirl of dizziness; but he shook it away.

“Here, here. There’s enough for you too.”

“I won’t eat unless Boss does.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Lio will have some when he wakes up.”

The sound of Galo speaking (too loudly) to Meis was not something Lio anticipated. Neither was the weak laughter that followed it. Burnish people were sitting close together around the dying embers of their fire, eyes looking brighter than they had since they first realized Lio had come to rescue them.

Galo was shuffling between them, leaning over the child with the missing arm and pouring something liquid and golden into his cup of (he assumed) instant oatmeal. There was also something else cooking, filling the air with a stronger stench. Lio crinkled his nose, eyes scanning the pots and single pan sitting over a small flame. There were three eggs frying, crisp white and yellow. Meis poked at them with a bent fork.

“Where did you get those?” Lio asked, eyes narrowed. His voice was low, but it had always been capable of commanding a room. All the eyes turned up to stare at him, though their expressions remained the same.

His first thought was Gueira had finally made it back to them, but surely he’d have heard the sounds of a truck outside?

“Oh, Boss.” Meis straightened up, flipping his long, charcoal hair over his opposite shoulder. He almost smiled. “You’re awake.”

“Lio!” Galo trampled between a few other burnish, coming towards him with that sunshine grin on his face. He had his shirt off this morning, so the heart-shaped scar on his chest was clearly visible; a bright white contrast to the rest of his tanned skin. A mark Lio couldn’t help but pride himself on. The shape had been an accident, but he liked it nonetheless.

“I know where a few bird’s nests are around the lake.” Galo explained, tipping his head towards the eggs frying on the pan. “I thought maybe some protein would be good for you guys.”

Lio merely blinked, looking back at Meis who gave him a curt nod and a roll of his eyes that said a thousand words. They should have a talk about who was in charge of Galo later, but seeing as the situation turned out alright—and of all things, the Burnish seemed extra cheerful—he figured he’d let it go. Galo was right, they needed to keep their strength up.

“Also, one time last summer I tripped and fell headfirst into this beehive…” Galo brought an arm up and rubbed at the back of his neck, grinning. “So, I knew where to get honey. And the bees were a lot nicer this time…” He held out a small up.

“You got us… honey?” Lio stared at the child mixing his oatmeal with one hand, cheeks flushed with color and eyes shiny. His tiny pink tongue poking out of his lips in excitement.

“Not a lot, but, yeah! See? I thought something sweet might cheer everyone up.”

The cup in Galo’s hand was almost empty, but the bottom was still filled with thick, chunky syrup. It smelt strong and flowery. Without thinking, Lio leaned forward, gripped Galo’s wrist to hold him steady, and licked the rim of it for a taste.

He couldn’t remember if he’d just never had honey before, or if natural honey tasted different than store-bought stuff, but either way it wasn’t bad. If there was enough to spare, he’d put some in his tea this morning.

Galo’s big stupid grin and blue eyes sought approval, and Lio didn’t have it in him to be put off by the gesture—not after they’d spent a large portion of the night cuddling. All his theories about Galo being a good ally to the Burnish people were proving to be right. He was too sincere. Too willing to go out of his way to help them.

Lio hadn’t bothered bringing up the topic of Kray Foresight since the first night Galo wandered in here, but he knew that he would need to _soon_. Guiera was going to be back with a truck and they were going to move locations for the sake of their safety. Whether or not Galo would come with them was—

“It’s good right?” He beamed.

_—not_ something Lio wanted to think about.

“It’s good.” He admitted, quietly, then turned away to join Meis beside the plate of eggs that were piling up near the fire. How many trees had Galo climbed to get them? How many birds had swooped down, screaming and pecking him in the head?

“Make sure you eat some of those!” Galo insisted after him, but was then called away by a Burnish woman who wanted to a spoonful of honey.

“Boss, I’m sorry if I overstep—

“It’s fine, Meis.” Lio placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t think Galo has any bad intentions, and I don’t think he’s capable of breaking his promise.”

“He certainly has a way with people.” Meis almost smiled again. “I couldn’t _not_ let him help us. We’re almost out of food as it is, and he was willing to get stung by bees.”

Lio propped his arms on Meis’ head, leaning over him. There was a lot he could have said about Galo and his loyalties and his good deeds, but it all made his stomach churn nervously. Every moment Lio spent with Galo Thymos was another moment he spent farther from wanting to kick his ass in battle. The thought was scary, so he changed the subject.

“Gueira should be back soon…”

There was a long moment of silence between them. Meis who was usually soft spoken and reserved, but never without _something _to say, seemed lost in poking at the whites of an egg. His shoulders slumped a little; voice came out barely more than a whisper.

“I hope so.”

He was worried.

“You know, Guiera.” Lio insisted. “He’ll be fine. He’s tough as nails.”

“I just wish I’d have gone with him. I hate not knowing.”

Lio swept a hand through Mei’s long hair, much the way Meis used to do to him when he was a young Burnish and had no other source of comfort. They’d known each other a long time—long enough to be family. Lio didn’t like seeing his family upset.

“Thank you for staying though. I needed you here.”

“You’re welcome, Boss.”

“Now, I’m ordering you to eat something.”

Meis did manage a smile this time, and he shook Lio off.

“Yeah, well I only eat after you’ve eaten.”

“Fair.” Lio squeezed in beside him and the fire. Normally, he’d choose not to eat when there were others going hungry, but with the eggs this morning (and Galo _probably _willing to go get more if needed), he figured now was as good a time as ever.

“I’m having some.” He nudged Meis. “Pass me a fork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, I hope you take the time to let me know <3 This is the most fanfiction I've written in the long time!
> 
> Also, if you want to talk/gush/scream over Promare with me, consider following me on instagram @mccull61 and on twitter @mccullsart (My twitter is new, i need friends.)


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